The Mill By The Pond

[LongMan]

G'day all,

Well here's something I wrote. All comments are welcome.......

Mill By The Pond

Lights of diamond sparkle, on cool waters of this pond
Unkempt groves of tall oak trees, hide all thats beyond
Viewed from the bank, schools of fish slowly swim
Bewitching willows leaves dance, for this northerly winds whim
Floating carpets of lilies, flowers of white appear from evenings spawned

Music of Spring fills my ears, on this theatrical tranquil tryst
Busy birds fill the air, soaring, then darting, quickly, then very swift,
very young birds chirp, always greedy for their parents gift
Some unborn eggs lie in nests, warmed by their soft mothers breast
Mother nature brings joys to all, as I lie here half adrift

A bank made of natures finest, this carpet of grass green
This gives me a lazy bed, so soft, in slumber causes this welcomed dream
I lie here thinking nothing on earth matters, yet so it seems
Earthly troubles seem to leave me, natures gift is now firmly deemed
We all wish to be in places like this, yet who would believe

This tattered old stone Mill house built in 1870 sits unused
Its walls once stout and clean, now ivy covered and misused
Once useful, now retired for sugar brought in white cardboard boxes
Wheel and windows broken, doors all frozen, slate roof broken and abused
Local county foke no longer care, been long forgotten, now abandoned

I look here at my artists pallet, brushes, oils and wooden easel
The colors, and perspective, for this theme is so unbelievable
Clouds form of white, purples and sky blues so variable
Mirrors of greens, from willows, tall oaks, cascading bushes
A test of all my skills, with art, my old hands and fine sable brushes

Dark clouds, winds begin to rise, a storms beginning to threaten
Once tranquil scene, an artist gift, now must be abandoned
Thunder, a flash of lightning, quickly I must pack, all is forsaken
Blast, my art work is lost, to rains and icy hails cynical pelting
Yet, with these rhyming words, its kept this artists soul from weeping.

Those artistic wonders all, while being at the pond.

By Philip Anthony

[Bob Pacey]

Definately some vivid pictures there Phil,

I found it hard to pick up a pattern to your rhyme ? have a read as suggested of the advice offered on the front of the forum and I think you will see what I mean.

Getting the rhyme right I feel is the first step then there are various ways to work on the metre I still struggle with this.


You have some good basic ideas so are starting on the right foot.


Cheers Bob

[Maureen K Clifford]

G'day Phil - lovely to see you posting work on the site, and you have some lovely lines in this piece of work and beautiful descriptions. Bush poetry is all about painting pictures with words.

There is lots of help available and tutorials on the home page to help you. Lots of always friendly advice and help given and offered here and never be afraid to ask for help if you need it.

As a basic rule of thumb with bush poetry your first verse sets the pace for the rest of the poem so in your poem the last word of each line equates to a rhyming scheme of AABBC - so that is as good a place as any to start your journey if you want to and try and sort the following verses to match up - once you have got a handle of that you can work on silly bill count and metre - bit no sense putting the horse before the cart.

As your poem stands at the moment your verses are running as

AABBC
ABBCB
AAAA (almost)B
AABAC
ABBCC
ABCDE

so you can see there is a fair amount of disparity. A site you might find helpful although it is American and they don't talk propa lol
is Rhymezone - it gives rhymes, meanings, synonyms and other things as well http://www.rhymezone.com/

Anyway we don't really get to precious on here with things, but I think I would be backed up by the mob 100% when I say that everyone here has improved their writing tremendously since being on this site, and you will to - if you want to. There is no pressure to do so. They are always your poems

Do hope this is helpful for you and a big welcome from me to ABPA

Cheers

Maureen

[Rimeriter]

Do you paint Phil ?

You certainly have the artists eye for colour and detail.

"onya" mate.
Jim.

[LongMan]

G'day all,

Hey thanks for the kind comments. I'll need to improve on the rhyme thing. I'm not sure about the:

AABBC
ABBCB
AAAA (almost)B
AABAC
ABBCC
ABCDE

is there a tutorial video about that online anywhere?

PHIL

[Maureen K Clifford]

Sorry Phil - we make the mistake of presuming others understand what we mean, The ABC set up merely defines the rhymed ending of each line so taking your poem,

Lights of diamond sparkle, on cool waters of this pond = A
Unkempt groves of tall oak trees, hide all thats beyond = A as they rhyme
Viewed from the bank, schools of fish slowly swim = B
Bewitching willows leaves dance, for this northerly winds whim + B as it rhymes with the line above
Floating carpets of lilies, flowers of white appear from evenings spawned = C no matching rhyme

If you go and click onto Tips on the home page you will see an excellent tutorial written by Ellis Campbell and one by Glenny which you are sure to find helpful as well as some very good tips by David Campbell. These 3 poets are top of their field by the way so anything you can glean from them Mate is worth gleaning.

Cheers

Maureen

[LongMan]

G'day Maureen,

Thanks now I understand. Its tough when your the only one that writes, often others don't understand. I can read it over and over but just can't see it. But your tip is great. I think I'll re-draft it.

Thanks again

PHIL

[Neville Briggs]

I'll be the dissenter, as usual.

As far as I can learn, there is no law or rule that determines where rhyming words must go or that every line must have rhyming words at the end.
If our friend Philip here has used rhyming words, in whatever pattern he chooses, then in my book, it is a rhyming poem, no problem.

As far as the metre goes, it looks irregular to me and is more related to free verse style than traditional metric forms. Some people accept that as poetry, some don't.
I think it is good poem, with lots of vivid detail and drama that is very interesting, although it sounds more like an old world country scene than the straggly countryside of Australia.

Open air painting is great Phil and you have described it right. In my neck of the woods, you would have to watch you didn't tread on a snake near the waterhole and you would have to battle to keep the flies and mosquitoes off your face and board.

Since I am the spelling ma'am. Line five of stanza 5, country folk, I think you meant.